Their Music- Romance Larghetto
by Tenoh
Summary: Baah... another bad fanfic that I was so proud of... once. It's a Haruka/Michiru fic, but nothing the slightest bit unnerving... so everyone can read it. I don't even mention names, but you can figure it out.


I don't really think I need a disclaimer. The story is my own, but thank you my dearest Frédéric Chopin for composing such a heart-achingly beautiful piano concerto that fits Haruka like a body glove (heehee). And I worship you, Takeuchi-sama, for creating such beautiful characters such as Haruka and Michiru. I'm not doing it to steal anyone's anything you know so don't sue me I'm just borrowing them and I promise I'll return it all when I'm done. Enjoy the fic. Short, like always.

Tenoh (Emily)

Their Music- Romance: Larghetto

_Chopin Piano Concerto in E minor, second movement_

_Romance: Larghetto_

_A swell of stringed chords_

The concertmistress allowed her gaze to slip from the notes on her page to the pianist as she brought her bow across the arch of strings on her violin. The blond woman at the piano sat perfectly poised, hands in lap, waiting for her entrance. Her ensemble was simple, like all the orchestra members'. Black sweater, black skirt, black ballerina flats.

_Easier for pumping the pedal than heels_

A sudden smiled washed over the violinist as she saw the blond place her delicate fingers on the keys. They were slender, her fingers, yet powerful, like her body. The concertmistress looked back upon her music. The entrance neared.

Near silence

_Horn fanfare_

Set your fingers perfectly for your entrance you know you want it to be perfect beautifully simply perfect

The pianist fell into the first notes of the concerto. Her arms and hands and fingers and body swayed as one with the chords. She was pulling them, not from the instrument itself, but from her very fingertips, her soul. Soon she was not just playing, but dancing, sweeping through the concert hall with the mellow notes of the bassoon.

Oh that I were the bassoon so I too may dance with her, in her music

Thoughts and notes whirled in the violinist's head, melting into gentle breezes and playful gusts.

Always turning it into something airy and light you have such a talent for it but do you know?

A transition in the piece. The notes became leaves in the autumn wind, spinning, falling, rising again and again. Raising her bowed head for but a moment, the pianist shook a stray lock of gold from her azure eyes. She never missed a beat.

No, you don't know how perfectly you play do you it is as though you pour your self into the music without knowing

For a moment it was just her and her notes and the full concert hall. The other instruments listened attentively for the moment when they would be invited back into the piece.

Black and ivory, the pale of her skin and the keys, the obscurity of her clothes and the piano they are so perfect

She was challenging herself, left hand with right, foot with hands, challenging the other instruments as well- teasing them to accept her competition.

Get that last chord just right end it just as perfectly as you started it

And then it was over. She had finished the piece alone; the final few notes had been hers and only hers. The last chord echoed in the screaming silence of the hall, dying out into a nerve-racking hush. She sat, removed her fingers from the keyboard, a bit dazed and anxious. Then came the encore. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of people rose from their seats. They applauded, cheered, whistled, and threw dozens of roses. A smile spread across her pale face as the color came back into her cheeks. They were applauding for her. Her moment. Her glory.

My music

She stood and walked gracefully to the edge of the stage. There she picked up a single white rose from amongst the piles of red and yellow, then handed it fluidly to the concertmistress. The violinist accepted the gift with a certain sly smile and gleam in her eye. Blue eyes met blue as they exchanged their silent praise.

It was beautiful

_Thank you you played very well as usual_

_Thank you it was certainly some time watching you up there_

_Hmm_

They bowed together, one with her violin tucked under her arm, the other with only the violinist's hand in her own. They exited the stage. There wasn't a moment for words before they were rushed back onto the stage for another series of encore.

Just being here with you and your music is divine you should really perform more often

Few words were exchanged during the car ride home. The blond sat at the wheel, resting one cheek against her knuckles as she drove along the coast.

I do so love your music but there is just one thing missing…

Both exited the car swiftly when they arrived at the extravagant Western-style manor. One offered to carry in the other's violin, but was gently turned down. They entered the house, an arm about each other's waist, walking to the airy open room at the back of the house where the grand piano lived. The blond seated herself at the comfortingly familiar instrument, while the smaller woman removed her violin from its lacquered case. She brought it to her chin as the blond put her fingers to the keys for the second time that night.

Chopin Piano Concerto in E minor, second movement

_Romance: Larghetto_

They played together, and this time the violinist was the partner, not the bassoon. But never had the bassoon really been playing with the pianist for she only played with that one violinist.

Her music

_No, not her music_

_Their music_

Fin

** I was reading some fanfics about Haruka's piano playing. I am a highly opinioned person. I think that the Concerto for Piano and Orchestra no. 1 in E minor composed by Frédéric Chopin is the most divinely perfect piece for her to play. I know, in fact, because it is such a sweet, mellow yet playful piece. Very hard to describe, but all but too perfect for a Haruka fic. I don't know what prompted me to write this. Probably because I wanted to write a really good fic about Haruka's music and prove that this is THE piece for her. Go listen to this piece before you flame me. Comments are always welcome, but I don't like being told how to write no matter what the circumstances. And its kinda (very???) hypocritical that I am very frank with people about their writing. Oh well… that's how the dice rolls. I hope you enjoyed it. I had fun writing it. Email me at tenoh_harukatenohharuka.. Thanks again for reading!

Tenoh (Emily)


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